


Holding On

by Mikey (mikes_grrl)



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: First Time, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Polyamory, Science Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 05:37:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikes_grrl/pseuds/Mikey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Usually when he woke up naked after an “episode” he was up and on his feet running, stealing clothes and begging food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A story written on the fly for several twitter peeps who kept *sharing* pics of Tony/Bruce on tumblr as evil, evil incentive. 
> 
> The Tony/Pepper is in the background, Pepper does not actually appear in the story. Maybe next time! :D

It was shawarma first, because that was what Tony wanted and God forbid anyone get in the way of Tony Stark on a mission. 

Tony had thrown a pair of pants and a shirt at Bruce when he woke up from his green haze, sprawled out naked on a carpet that was so shag it was probably a dead animal (the pants were, as usual, a total loss even if they had stayed mostly on during the fighting), but that was as far as he was willing to go in letting anyone change clothes. Apparently Loki had been locked up while Bruce was passed out from transitioning back, and all Stark had left to do was go for shawarma. Like a spastic nanny, he hustled the Avengers down to the service elevator, which Jarvis assured them was still functional and safe, and they all went out to eat. 

It was surreal. 

Bruce had no context for the experience, and had to hold back from breaking out into hysterical laughter throughout the meal. Steve fell asleep with his chin in one hand, Natasha ate Hawkeye’s fries, Thor ate _all_ of Steve’s food, and somehow Stark managed to look like he was sitting at the head of a table that was round. It was a bonding experience, and Bruce did not know how to process that.

Usually when he woke up naked after an “episode” he was up and on his feet running, stealing clothes and begging food. 

SHIELD picked up Natasha and Hawkeye outside of the restaurant. Thor basically told everyone to piss off (only in a really nice, polite and flowery way) because he was flying out to see his girlfriend, and Steve offered to go with the SHEILD agents in order to report personally to Director Fury. Bruce was fine with that, he was not anxious to go head to head with Fury again anytime soon. 

“So where you going?” Stark stood on the sidewalk, looking almost normal in his jeans and tee shirt, amidst the still drifting dust of destruction and death floating around them. 

Bruce stopped at the question. He had no idea. There was no place for him to go other than SHIELD, which was the last place he wanted to be. 

Stark must have read it on his face, because he waved a hand for Bruce to follow him and walked off. 

Bruce was not entirely sure how he ended up back in the Stark penthouse again, but he had to admit he wasn’t surprised. “You don’t have to.”

“Don’t have to what? This way, here, here.” Tony pulled and pointed and directed Bruce through the place to a bedroom. Bruce was dead on his feet, the come-down from the Other Guy’s appearance finally catching up with him. He assumed it was due to the food coma…he had eaten three plates of shawarma. 

“Don’t have to put me up.”

“Whatever, here. Sit. Shoes! No no no, don’t hand them to me, throw them over there. Pants. Are you shy? Really? Because I saw it all hanging out in the living room. You were fetching, all laid out on the shag carpet like a pin up. A very academic looking pinup, you should have had your glasses, and maybe a book. Wait, shirt, okay, yes, there you go, down you go, good boy—”

Bruce wanted to complain that he was hardly a _boy_ but his impending unconsciousness held him back. He fell asleep to the oddly comforting patter of Stark talking to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce had no idea what time it was when he woke up, but the lights of the city outside of the floor to ceiling windows indicated late night. The bed was incredibly comfortable, not too soft or too firm, and Bruce had a little warm cocoon going on in the sheets. Everything about Stark screamed excess, but Bruce was having a hard time being critical of that while wrapped up in expensive cotton and lounging on a bed that probably cost more than Bruce’s first car. 

He startled at a noise to his right, realizing for the first time that he wasn’t alone. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked over at his companion. 

Stark was belly down, cradling a pillow and snuffling into it. He cracked one eye open. In the dark, with just the light from windows letting the night in, Bruce could not read Stark’s expression. 

“Stark?”

“Call me Tony.”

Bruce nodded, his senses coming online as he woke up. He was naked. He kind of remembered Stark—Tony—getting him into bed, but not much after that. “Is this, uh, is this your bedroom?”

“Yes, the bedroom where I sleep. Go to sleep.” Tony spun over, putting his back to Bruce, and apparently fell back asleep instantly. 

Bruce lowered himself down carefully to settle on his back. The ambient light from the city below them was beautiful, reflecting in broken shards off of furniture and furnishings. He was sore, because while it was something he did not admit to anyone, the switch back to being himself always left him with lingering aches and pains in his joints and deep in his muscles. He suspected that in the long run, there would be bone damage, less from the Other Guy showing up and smashing things than from the trauma of shrinking down to being Bruce Banner again. He sighed. 

“Sleeeeeeep,” Tony intoned from his little island nation of bed space to Bruce’s right. 

“Awake,” Bruce answered honestly. He thought he should be surprised at waking up in Tony’s bed, but he suspected that Tony had a latent mother-hen impulse that he did not get to humor often. Bruce was willing to go with the flow, it was a key aspect of his personality all his life and having to deal with the Other Guy had only made it a more important skill, not less. 

“Jesus Christ, I can hear you thinking from here. Ugh.” Tony rolled over again. This time the light from his arc reactor burst out from under the sheets, surprising Bruce. He had forgotten about it. 

Tony sat up, and Bruce realized he was naked to. He looked good, not bulked up like Steve or Thor, but solid and muscular all the same. He looked…human. Bruce tore his eyes away. 

“So, I’m going to go out on a limb here, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about since I saw your file.” Tony turned to face him, looking down on Bruce as if he were a science experiment. 

Bruce sighed again. “Go ahead, ask anything you want.”

“What? No, that wasn’t what I had in mind.” Tony stretched out over on top of Bruce in one smooth move, and before Bruce could launch himself out of the bed started kissing him. 

Bruce pushed him back with both hands, the light of the arc reactor making the space between them eerie and warm. “No.”

Tony braced himself up on his hands, looming over Bruce, the sheet falling down off of his hips. Their legs were tangled together and Bruce could feel Tony nascent erection against his thigh.

“Look, I’m not going to do anything you don’t want, because I’m not that kind of asshole, and anyway it would end badly for everyone involved and my penthouse has already taken a beating today. So if the answer is ‘no’, then okay, it’s ‘no’ and I’m going to the bathroom for some quality alone time with my hand and the detachable shower head.”

Bruce laughed, and Tony smiled in return, his face lit up in the blue glow. He tilted himself down, still holding himself up on his hands—Bruce was surprised to realize that not all of Tony’s strength was the suit—and looked Bruce in the eyes. “But it doesn’t have to be ‘no.’ You’re not going to hurt me. I _can’t_ hurt you. We’re consenting adults and your brain is the fucking sexiest thing I’ve seen in years.” His lips were inches away from Bruce’s, so close that Bruce could feel the rasp of Tony’s beard on his chin. 

“I thought, Pepper, you and Pepper. So I heard.” Bruce’s voice sounded rough to his own ears, so he knew he probably sounded absolutely wrecked to Tony. In a way, he was.

“Mmmm. You heard right.” Tony kissed him again, slowly and methodically. Bruce did not move his arms, which were down on the mattress next to him, his hands lightly fisting the sheets to keep from reaching out. But he did let himself respond to the kiss, tilting his head and opening his mouth enough for Tony to take it as an invitation and barge in. Tony dropped down to his elbows, his hands lax by Bruce’s head, and pushed his body so that they were pressed firmly together from chest to foot. Bruce’s legs fell open, another invitation that Tony shifted to take advantage of, settling between them and locking their hips together so that their erections were rubbing. Bruce kept fisting the sheets, torqueing his hands to keep them off of Tony. 

Tony pulled back, panting, his eyes bright. The arc reactor glowed between them, a weird, oddly placed spotlight on Bruce’s furry chest. 

“I’m practically monogamous; Pepper only lets me have sex with people I actually like.” 

Bruce smiled despite himself, forcing his hands to relax. “Sounds difficult for you.”

“You have no idea. I really don’t like people, at all. Very few. A select few, I would say.”

“Ah. I should be flattered?” 

Tony nodded. “Yes.” 

“Soooo, that’s why I’m here? So you can have sex with me?”

Tony frowned. “Were you paying attention? I suppose the kissing must have scrambled your brain. I’m that good, lots of practice, but no, you’re here because I like you. Keep up.” Tony finished by kissing him again, shoving his tongue into Bruce’s mouth but then licking gently, as if teasing. After a few seconds, before Bruce could rally himself, Tony pulled up. “You’re not touching me. Is this a thing with you? You don’t like touching? Because that will make sex difficult. Not impossible, long odds and all that; we’re scientists, we’ll figure something out, but I have to admit a little disappointment here.”

“I’m just out of practice, Tony. And…concerned.”

“About the big green guy?”

Bruce didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure how.

“Does he appear while you’re bumping uglies?”

“Not when I masturbate, no.” Bruce tried not to grind his teeth, tried to hold back his annoyance to keep any and all paths closed to the Other Guy. 

“I’m sensing that you are leaving a lot out of that answer.”

“I haven’t had sex…since…a long time. I’m just concerned.”

“Testosterone levels?”

Bruce shrugged. He wasn’t up to a long-winded explanation of the biology.

Tony sighed. “Okay, so it’s a comfort level thing. I can be sensitive to that. No really, I can. So let’s try something. If you want this,” he said, pushing his erection against Bruce’s, “Then hold me. That’s it. Just hold me. I’ll do all the work.”

Tony’s body was hot against him, and Bruce’s blood felt like it was going to boil over from the desperate need consuming him. His desire to be touched, to have sex and get off and hear someone else come warred with his fear of losing control, but it was a long lost battle because his body was already shifting under Tony, trying to get closer. Ill-advised or not, Bruce knew what was going to happen between them. He carefully brought his hands up and hugged Tony’s torso, his hold loose, his arms crossing over Tony’s back so that his hands rested on his ribs. He was not at all sure of what he had let himself in for, but he was feeling drunk on the skin contact. It had been too long since he held someone so closely, for pleasure. Tony sighed. 

“Great. Fantastic. This will be nice, great change of pace from Pepper’s aggressiveness. She’s hard to keep up with sometimes, I’m only human and oh. Oh. Yeah. Nice.” Tony was thrusting softly, something more like rubbing, causing their dicks to slide together. Bruce focused on the sensation, on how vulnerable he was with his legs splayed wide and Tony on top of him, but it felt good. Bruce closed his eyes, hugged tighter and tipped his head back to breathe. 

“Fuck yeah. You’re beautiful. I have great taste,” Tony said guilelessly and started kissing down Bruce’s neck. His hands had not moved and Bruce thought, through the slowly building fog of arousal, that Tony was keeping his own hands off of Bruce on purpose. It embarrassed Bruce to be treated so cautiously, even though he knew it was justified. Tony was undulating, his whole body moving in a patient, slow wave of pleasure, rubbing himself over Bruce, their dicks trapped in the heat and sweat between them.

Bruce’s body picked up on the primal, instinctive need and his hips curled up, reaching for Tony, his heels digging into the mattress. Tony gave a small gasp and started going a little harder, a little faster, just enough to increase the electric zing of their skin sliding together. Bruce’s cock was hard and throbbing and not getting enough pressure, so Bruce pushed up harder with his hips, keeping his arms locked around Tony.

“Oh, I got it. I got you. Here. Let me…okay.” Tony slowed down and pulled back a little, twisting his hips until his cock shifted to point down, rubbing under Bruce’s balls and into the cleft of his ass cheeks. Bruce hissed as Tony started thrusting again, pressing them closer together. “Can I? You okay with this? You’ve done this before?” Tony actually whispered the question into Bruce’s shoulder. 

Bruce’s fingers dug into Tony’s ribs. “Just fuck me already.”

Tony nodded. “On it.” He reached to somewhere and came back with lube and a condom. Bruce went to release Tony, to give him room, but Tony growled. “No. Hold on. _Hold on to me_.”

Bruce wrapped his arms around him again, slowly, leaving room for Tony to move. Tony lubed up one handed, which impressed Bruce even if it made him uncomfortable to think about how many times Tony had done this with other people. It was an unfamiliar flare of jealousy that Bruce did not want, so instead he watched as Tony shoved the hand down between them, disappearing into the light of the arc reactor. 

“Pull your hips up,” Tony said, and Bruce did until the tops of Tony’s thighs were holding up his ass. More flexible than Bruce gave him credit for, Tony dropped a shoulder and his fingers made it to Bruce’s ass.

“If I let go you can—“

“No, shut up. Don’t move.” 

Bruce followed instructions, amused by Tony’s determination not to allow Bruce to let go of him. Tony slowly started to work him open, first with one long, slow moving finger then with two. Bruce lost his coherence, strangling out sounds he would be embarrassed about later, as Tony stroked his prostate with a crooked finger, whispering filthy encouragement against his skin. Bruce’s orgasm mugged him from nowhere in a blinding flash of pleasure and desperate need. He pumped his hips up, his cock rubbing between Tony’s arm and abdomen, and he felt his release flooding over both of them. 

“Jesus fuck, that was hot. So hot.” Tony burrowed his fingers into Bruce’s ass even harder, stroking him all the way through his orgasm. “I love the way you come for me,” Tony whispered into Bruce’s shoulder again, although Bruce was too busy shaking out the aftershocks to respond. 

In a daze, Bruce did not even feel how Tony got a condom on, but the next thing he knew, Tony was crouched over him, his dick pressing into him, stretching him open. It burned a little, because it had been too long, and Bruce whined, to his embarrassment.

“Shhh, sorry, I’m just, fuck, I’m in a hurry. Damnit. Okay, hold me, goddamnit, Bruce, _one thing_ I ask you to do—”

Bruce laughed at Tony’s curmudgeonly muttering and clasped Tony back to his chest again, fast and hard. Surprised, Tony shoved forward and slipped all the way into Bruce, bottoming out with a groan. His elbows slammed into the mattress as Tony started hard, fast thrusts, gasping Bruce’s name. 

Bruce was completely fucked out and happy, and there was no trace of the Other Guy in his consciousness. Tony was filling him up, skin to skin. Bruce was safe in a penthouse overlooking a damaged city, holding on to a man he did not understand but admired and genuinely liked. It all swirled together in his mind as he tightened his arms, fitting Tony into his body as Tony started losing control, slamming his hips against Bruce’s ass and shaking. 

He still kept his hands palms-up and open, lax next to Bruce’s head, all of his fierce, barely contained energy narrowed into his elbows and forearms and hips. Tony was alternately mouthing at Bruce’s skin and cursing loudly, everything on automatic except for his hands, held carefully away from restraining Bruce in any way. The realization of what Tony was doing slammed into Bruce right as Tony finally crested in a litany of barely-formed words, his body stuttering and then freezing as he came. 

“Bruce, hold me, I’m—fuck, fuck—”

Shocked and pleased and amazed, Bruce held on as tightly as he could, the hot round press of the arc reactor almost painful against his skin but he didn’t give a damn. He kept Tony trapped in his arms, feeling Tony’s dick swelling hard inside him, filling the condom if Tony hadn’t actually broken it with his frantic fucking. 

There was a long, silent pause as Tony collapsed incrementally, gasping for breath, his face shoved into Bruce’s neck. Bruce petted him, rubbing his back and pushing him back a little so he slipped out of Bruce quickly. Tony groaned but did not say anything, rolling just far enough off of him to dispose of the condom, them falling back onto Bruce’s chest. The light from the arc reactor was suddenly hidden away and the room was plunged into darkness. 

Bruce took a deep breath, pulling Tony closer to him. “Thank you.”

“Sleeeeep.” Tony murmered, cuddling up against Bruce.

Bruce rolled his eyes and closed them, expecting to be lost in thought and post-coital sentiment, but he woke up several hours later as dawn was beginning to sneak across the sky. He looked over Tony, who was lying on his back, reading his phone. 

“Wha’?” 

Tony looked at him then tossed the phone away where it landed with a thud. Bruce croaked out a laugh, because leave it to Tony to toss expensive equipment onto the floor. “Sleep okay?”

Bruce used one arm to pull Tony back to him again. “Yes. So what were you doing, checking your email?”

Tony sighed dramatically. “Received a priority text from Fury. He’s ‘letting’ Thor take Loki and the tessaract back to Asgard in a few hours. Trying to make sure the Avengers all show, it’s going to be some kind of photo opportunity, naturally.” Tony rubbed a hand up from Bruce’s groin to his neck, as if trying to map his contours.

Bruce frowned. “This morning?”

“Mmmm. Later, in Central Park. Press will be watching but cordoned off at a distance. We’ll drive in together, I have just the car for it.”

Bruce laughed. “A car for every occasion?”

Tony shrugged. “Yeah.”

That sobered Bruce up a bit, and he lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to grasp the enormity of the differences between them. He knew Tony was watching him out of the corner of his eyes, and he was grateful that Tony wasn’t forcing him to talk. Finally Bruce sighed. “I don’t really have anything to wear.”

“You’d look good in yellow, I’ve got the perfect shirt for you.”

“I can’t wear your clothes to Loki’s send-off, Tony.”

“Why the hell not? You’ll let me fuck you but you won’t wear my shirt?”

“We’re not going steady,” Bruce snapped. 

Tony pulled himself up onto one elbow, looking down at Bruce, the blue glow of the light reactor almost as bright as the sun between them. He studied Bruce for a few moments, his intensity drilling into Bruce uncomfortably until Tony broke into a light, happy smile.

“Actually, yeah, I kind of think we are.” He leaned over Bruce again, the same way he had started things earlier, kissing him softly and thoroughly until Bruce could not even think straight anymore. He wrapped his arms around Tony and held on.


End file.
